Fic; Fencing Lessons, Part Two.
Title: Fencing Lessons
Author: ittykat
Characters: Snow/Bigby, Prince Charming, Rose Red, Briar Rose, Cinderella, Colin the Pig, Blue, King Cole, many others mentioned.
Wordcount: ~12,000
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Snow tries to go about her normal daily business after she discovers she's pregnant. A collection of missing scenes from just after she discovers she's pregnant to just after the battle of the Wooden Soldiers.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Bill Willingham and Vertigo.The last half of the last scene is taken word-for-word from a panel in the forth TPB.
Notes: Many thanks to zenni and wrinkling for their ongoing feedback and encouragement. This was started in April and only just finished now. It got much longer than I ever intended it to be, but sometimes stories do that. Comments and thoughts are always appreciated. Also this had to be split into two parts since LJ thought it was too long.
Part One
Kill two birds with one stone
"Did they have Jane Fonda?" Rose asked gleefully, as they climbed the stairs to Edmond Dante's fencing studio.
Snow rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I didn't hire it. And before you ask: No, I didn't hire out Carmen Electra either."
"But pole dancing is such a classy way to burn those extra pounds." Rose paused and twitched her head to the side, pondering for a second, and then she added: "Especially when you're pregnant."
"Even if it was, I'm not sure Monsieur Dantes has a pole installed. And there is no way I'm installing one in my apartment." Snow said as they reached the third floor. The plaque on the door in front of them said: The Chateau d'If Fencing Academy.
"He does have a television in the studio right?" Rose asked, as Snow fumbled in her pockets for the key.
"Yes." Snow nodded, finally pulling out the key. "He said he'd set it up for us somewhere we can see." She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, but to her surprise it was already unlocked.
"He must be here a little later than he thought he'd be." Snow said with a shrug, and pushed the door open. Rose followed in behind. The lights were on in the corridor, but Dante's office was dark and the door was closed.
"Maybe he just forgot to lock up." Rose said, hoisting her gym bag back over her shoulder.
They rounded the corner, stepping out into the main studio. The floors were padded and springy underfoot. The television and DVD player were set up on a table in the corner, just as Dante had promised Snow.
But they weren't alone. Charming stood off to the side of the room, long metal rapier in hand, extending and thrusting towards a fencing mannequin. The tip of the sword pierced the shoulder, right where the heart would be, and the metal bent and twisted in an elegant curve, snapping back straight when Charming withdrew and noticed the two women in the studio.
He turned to face them, a quiet look of surprise on his face. His shirt was half buttoned so that it allowed a healthy expanse of well-defined, sweaty chest to be seen. It was quite distracting. But both women knew him well enough to be immune to his powers of charm.
"What're you doing here?" Rose asked curtly.
"Practising." Charming said, holding up his sword pointedly.
Rose glared. Snow eyed the sword. "No." Rose said. "I meant how did you get in here?"
"I have a key. Edmond lets me have free reign here whenever I like, provided I offer a few demonstrations every now and then.
"Right. Well we booked the studio tonight, so can you leave us alone?"
"Like hell. I was here first."
"This isn't a territorial man game we're playing here, Charming. You don't get dibs purely because you're here."
"'Territorial man game'?"
A loud metallic noise echoed through the room, interrupting the rhythm their bickering had gotten into. They both stopped and turned to Snow, who held one of Dante's foils lightly in her hand. Both looked equally confused.
"It's been a long time since I've held a sword." Snow muttered quietly to herself, only partially aware that the other two were silent and looking at her. She flexed her wrist from side to side, testing the weight of it in her palm. It was lighter than she remembered, but then again, this was not the sort of sword that Charming had taught her with, however many centuries ago. That had been a thicker, heavier sword, made for real action, and not for sport like this one.
"Snow, honey, what are you doing?" Rose asked. The look on her face said 'My sister is pregnant and crazy'.
Snow tore her eyes away from the blade and glowered at Rose. "Don't be like that." She held her arm out straight and pointed the blade directly in front of her. In one quick move she thrust it forward. The blade jabbed through the air with a soft schwing.
"Your footwork is wrong." Charming smirked, pointing at her back foot. "You almost overbalanced there."
"It has been about four hundred years since I did this last," Snow said, turning on him defensively. The foil lowered down towards the ground and she flicked her hair back behind her shoulders. "And my sense of balance is more than a little off of late, so you can keep your comments to yourself."
"Snow we have work to do, and if his Highness over here isn't gonna scoot, then we might as well go back to your apartment and make the best of it."
"There isn't enough room there, with the couches and the coffee table."
"We can move them."
"I'm not allowed to lift anything heavy at the moment, and I'm not even sure I could."
"Well then we'll go get a cup of coffee or tea or something at the diner, and come back tomorrow." Rose turned to Charming, hands on her hips. "We call dibs on the studio tomorrow. It's nice to be reminded you're still a selfish asshole."
Charming gave the red-head a sarcastic bow of the head. "I aim to please." He said
"Come on sis. Let's go get that coffee." Rose said.
"Charming?" Snow asked, bending the tip of the sword with her free hand. "Do you remember that promise you made me on--" She paused, and glanced awkwardly at her sister. "-- Just after we got married? I asked for you to teach me how to fence."
"Yes." He said hesitantly. The frown on his face was a bitter one, filled with sour memories and century-old mistakes.
"You promised one day we'd continue those lessons."
Rose sputtered a little in shock. "What?" She said incredulously. "Snow you're being stupid. You're pregnant and you want to play with big giant knives? That isn't what Dr Swineheart meant when he told you to exercise."
Snow pursed her lips and ignored her sister, focusing instead on her ex-husband.
"I was under the impression that promise was made null and void by our divorce." He said emphatically, though he looked a little disorientated, as though he hadn't at all expected the proposition.
"A promise is a promise. And since you were the party at fault when we divorced--" Snow glared a little when his glance shifted to Rose. "--Then I feel that I should still be able to collect on it."
"No." Rose said forcefully, stepping in between the two. "You're pregnant and making crazy decisions. I'm putting my foot down."
"Rose, this isn't your decision, it's mine. And as enthusiastic as you might be about Jane Fonda, I don't relish the thought of getting my exercise in time to a tape."
Charming laughed. "You were going to work out with Jane? No wonder you'd rather fence."
"So will you teach me again?"
"No." He said airily, shrugging apathetically. "I simply don't have the time."
Snow would not be deterred so easily. "You corrected my footwork just before. You're already doing it in your 'spare time'." She paused and raised the foil up to her line of sight, carefully examining it. She continued on in a light, flippant manner. "Consider it a way to convince me to forget about the Bluebeard incident."
The airy carelessness he'd been affecting was dropped, and he adopted a quiet, calculating look, as though he were weighing the pros and cons in his head. "So if I give you lessons, you'll drop the Bluebeard threats?" He finally asked.
"Yes." Snow said with smile, knowing that she'd won. It hadn't even taken much of a fight. He must've been really bored.
"Alright." Charming said with a nod. Rose let out a huff of frustration.
"You're both idiots." Rose said, throwing her hands up in the air. "I wash my hands of both of you. I'll be at Branstock."
She left, slamming the door. Snow sighed, wondering when Rose would ever lose that particular dramatic flair. It only ever succeeded in impressing guys like Jack and Bluebeard. That bad-sort of guy that got Rose into so much trouble. She returned her attention to Charming who was looking at her with a fond smile on his lips. Snow wasn't sure she liked it.
"Shall we begin?" He asked, stepping up onto the strip of padded floor that ran across the room. He raised his foil out towards her own, eyebrows raised.
"Alright."
"Good. Then we'll make the ground rules. Number one. You don't tell Bigby about these lessons."
"Oh don't tell me you're scared of him."
"I'm not scared, but I have a healthy respect for anyone who'd rip my head off if given the chance, and if he came to be aware of this particular arrangement, I imagine that would be chance enough for him."
"I won't tell him. But I don't imagine we'll be able to keep this secret from him."
Charming frowned. It was an ugly frown. "His nose knows everything. Of course. Filthy beast. Well then do your best to keep him off my back, and that will be fine."
"I'll try." Snow conceded. "But despite all appearances of my seniority, he tends to do what he wants, and not what I tell him to."
He looked at her skeptically, as though he didn't quite believe her, but did not follow it up with a witty remark, as he was usually wont to do. "The other rule is that you do exactly as I say. You follow my instructions to the letter. If I say that we are finished for the day, you are to go home and not argue. Can you do that?"
"I can." She tilted her neck to the side both ways, breathing deeply when she heard the satisfying crack. She uncrossed her arms and raised the foil towards Charming. She wanted to start.
"Alright." He said, taking a step back, his feet naturally assuming the correct stance. He raised his rapier towards her, holding it rather loosely in his hand. Snow could tell by his posture he didn't expect much of a challenge from her, and to be truthful she didn't think she'd ever deliver one, but she'd do her best.
"Show me what you remember." He instructed, and so with one deep breath she did.
A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.
"I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" She asked the dismembered pig's head, impaled on a spike in her kitchen.
The pig snorted happily. "I would've thought that was obvious by now, sweetheart."
"It's getting a little harder for me to tell whether these dreams are real or just dreams these days." She sighed, shuffling through the kitchen to put on the kettle. If she was dreaming, she was damn well going to have herself a coffee. Seven months of cravings were hard to push aside.
"I'd blame the hormones. They'll give anyone weird dreams." Colin said, twisting on his spike a little to face her. He squelched unpleasantly. "I also hear it does wonders for the sex-drive."
"Yeah? Sex with who?" Snow asked hypothetically, not really wanting him to answer. It was likely he'd just assume the same thing that the rest of the community was assuming. Only this morning Bigby had thumped Jack for making a lewd gesture in their direction, and she supposed that in hindsight that probably hadn't been the best way to deter the rumour.
"Do you want something to drink while you're here? Or are you just around to deliver a cryptic message then leave me to wake up."
"Can't a guy just haunt your dreams for some good conversation?"
"Not when you're impaled upon a pole."
"True..." He tilted his head to the side and gave her a wry smile. "I'd love a cold beer."
Snow raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm seven months pregnant, Colin, and you think I have beer in my house?"
"It can never hurt to ask." He said. Snow was sure that had he still had shoulders he would have shrugged. "A coffee would be fine. Black as death and sweet as sin."
"Okay. And I have a straw around here somewhere... You can drink it out of that." Snow said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a plastic novelty straw. It was twisted into the shape of a musical treble clef.
"Thanks. You're always were a doll, Snowdrop."
"Why do you haunt my dreams anyway, Colin?"
"You need my help. You might hide it around everyone else, but I can see how scared you are, how lost you feel... So I took pity on you and decided to give you guidance."
"And guidance is cryptic messages about the horrors that are to come?"
"Hey, forewarned is forearmed."
"But I never remember these dreams when I wake up... And I always wake up feeling like I got about two minutes sleep."
"Whether you remember it consciously or not doesn't matter. You'll remember it unconsciously, and that's gonna help."
The kettle began to boil with a shrill whistle, interrupting their conversation. Snow removed it from its cradle and poured the hot water into two glasses. It swirled with the instant coffee powder and the sugar, and she got a spoon and swirled it around the glasses to mix it around.
"Okay. So what's your message today. 'A storm is coming'? 'Your child will be spawn of the devil'?"
"Children. Plural. More than one. But no, nothing to do with the devil. They'll be as normal as you can expect them to be with parents of different species."
Snow plopped the straw into Colin's coffee cup and held it up to his mouth so that he could suck away. "It's hot, sip slowly."
"I'm dead. Even if it does burn my tongue, what do I care?" He sucked at the coffee happily. Dark black liquid made its way through his head, eventually falling out the back of his skull, mixing with the blood and gore of his wound and dripping down the pole and onto the tiles of her kitchen floor. At least it wasn't her carpet this time.
"Ah, that hit the spot." He said, lips smacking happily. "Thanks, Snow."
"You're welcome." She put his mug down on the counter and began to drink her own. The bitter liquid was light and hot on her tongue, but every drop was savoured. Her addiction to this drink had come as a shock when she'd been deprived it.
"Listen. Snow... Bad things are coming. I told you that last time... And people are going to die. But Fabletown has never had a more capable leader than you."
"I don't like it when you talk like this."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for. They wouldn't let me come unless you needed to hear it."
"Then tell me specifics. Dates. Events. What's coming? What's so bad?
"An army will come, led by an old enemy dressed up an old friend. And he'll won't be there to help you when you need it. But you won't be alone. Remember that. You're never alone."
Snow groaned and rolled over in her bed. The baby had been sleeping on her bladder again, giving her strange dreams. She pushed aside the covers and pattered across the hallway to the bathroom to the toilet, the lingering taste of dream coffee on her tongue.
Clothes don't make the man.
"I have a question." She said, as she wiped her forehead with a towel. She felt like she was dripping with sweat, and she could feel a line of it leaking down her spine. Charming passed her the water bottle and she gratefully took a sip.
"Of course." He wasn't in the least bit tired or sweaty, still looking as completely composed as he had when he'd first walked in. She felt dreadfully unfit in comparison, but that was the point of all this.
"Who told you I was pregnant?"
He smiled and shook his head, as though remembering a fond memory. "Mrs. Webb took great pleasure in telling me the news. She seemed to think I'd be jealous and wanted to see my reaction."
"I'm not stupid, Charming." She said. "You definitely knew before Mrs. Webb did. She didn't find out until Mrs. Spratt peeked in my medical file and spilled the beans while she was at the hairdressers, and that was at least a month after you knew."
Charming shrugged in a very non-committal manner that frustrated Snow to no end. He was so hard to read when he was like this. She forged on ahead instead. Perhaps if she just badgered him incessantly she'd eventually get an answer she'd be satisfied with.
"There's no need to protect your sources now, it's not like I can hide it anymore." She said. Her stomach protruded out through her tight sports top, and she instinctively rubbed a hand across it. "It's in the past. I'm just curious... Rose swears she didn't tell you, and she was the weakest link."
"Rose and I aren't gossip buddies, and I don't know if you've noticed but she's been about as keen on me for the past few centuries as you have been."
Snow didn't believe him. If it wasn't Rose, then it was almost certainly someone else. The options were severely narrowed down. Dr Swineheart was far too honourable to even consider breaking the Doctor-Patient confidentiality agreement. Bigby would've bitten Charming's head off before telling him Snow was pregnant. But King Cole occasionally let one or two things slip when the right compliment was thrown his way and Blue could be talkative when he had a few drinks in him. She put a hand on her hip and eyed Charming sceptically. He had the answer, and she would get it out of him one way or another.
"Then who was it? King Cole? Blue? Bigby wouldn't tell you a thing about me unless he had my express written permission."
Charming chuckled a little. "You've trained the dog well I see."
"He isn't a dog." She said, irritated. It took a great deal of willpower not to level a glare at him, the only reason she didn't was because she felt he'd read too much into it. Charming had always been good at reading body language.
She caught him in a stare, eyes locked, and it turned into a sort of silent game of Uncle. Snow wouldn't stop until her curiosity was sated, and Charming seemed reluctant to let on the answer, but Snow was fuelled by hormones and she'd always had a steadfast dedication to any task that Charming had no hope of rivalling, even if he tried, so it was no real surprise that he caved first. "I could tell." He said with a shrug, turning back to the rack where they'd stacked their foils. "No one told me."
"What do you mean, no one told you?" That was even less likely than him getting the goss out of Rose.
"I figured it out for myself. Whenever you and Bigby were in the room together you could cut the tension with a knife... Then there was the way you were carrying yourself. You gained weight..." He suddenly looked a bit scared. He hurried on to clarify, as though he knew the punishment for angering her while she was pumped full of hormones was more terrifying than he could truly imagine. "And I'm not calling you fat... You looked so worried all the time. But I didn't really know for sure until I caught you when you were about to fall, that day."
Snow turned up her nose, as though she didn't like the answer. "You were never that good at reading me, Charming."
"I've had more time to practice than the last time I tried." The Prince shrugged then raised his foil once again. "Now have you had enough of a break or can we get back to work?"
Forewarned is forearmed.
It was eerily quiet. The war was coming: the proverbial storm on the horizon. Baba Yaga and the Wooden Soldiers had issued their ultimatum and the fallout had left her with little time to process. Instead, her mind was filled with battle plans, attack points, strengths, weaknesses, strategies, street maps, building plans... She was alone. Everyone else had been given their orders. She barely looked up when the office door opened. It squeaked a little and echoed through the cavernous room.
"How are Trusty John and Blue?" Snow glancing up only briefly to see it was Charming, bearing news of the two of their kin who're already injured. Blue-- her right hand man was gone.
"They'll be fine. Swineheart is with them both." Charming said, standing in the door-way.
"Good." Snow nodded. She'd changed into practical overalls and a warm jacket loaded with many pockets. A two-way radio was pinned to the pocket over her breast. There was another, identical radio sitting on her desk, on top of street maps and building plans.
"Is Bigby coming?" He asked, slowly covering the distance between the door and her desk.
"He should be. He's been out of contact since last night." Snow looked up from the plans and handed the spare radio to Charming.
"I need you to lead them out there. On the front line--"
"I was going to whether you asked me to or not."
"-- and I need to know you'll follow my orders."
"A good general knows when it's best to follow orders."
Snow nodded. It was what she needed to hear. "Good. I trust you. You'll need to supervise the blockade of Bullfinch and Kipling streets at both entrances, show this to the Mundys if they ask questions..." She handed him a false permit, one they always had handy for situations exactly like this.
"Leave it to me." He said, and with radio in one hand and permit in the other, he left the office with a nod.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery...
They both were wearing black. It was tradition, after all. The war was over, and now it was time to bury their dead.
Snow's hand felt small in his. He could wrap his fist around it and completely envelop it, but she didn't feel overwhelmed. He'd been there for her, for them. He'd pulled through right when they'd needed him. They were safe now.
"You look really nice in that suit." She said, looking at his hand and then the sleeve of his jacket, and finally him.
He slouched a little, the deep frown across his brow deepened and a faint red blush crossed his cheeks. "I don't like wearing this suit. I don't like what it means."
Snow sighed. She looked back down at their hands, and at her belly, straining through the fabric of her skirt. It wouldn't be much longer. She could feel it. A week at the most. Time had gone so fast, everything was happening so fast. "No. I know." She said. "But it looks good. You clean up well, when you have to."
He grunted a little, and his lips twisted at the sides. It was his strange version of a smile. She smiled too.
"You know," She said. "If you took the time to iron your shirt every day before you came to work, you'd look smart every day."
"Would you like that?" His brown eyes were staring at her so intensely, it felt almost invasive. She felt as though all her fears, all the cracks in her facade were breaking down under the pressure of his stare. She wished she could think of something to break the ice, to relieve the pressure, but she'd never been one very good at cracking jokes in times of stress, that was Rose's job.
"I don't know." She sighed.
"Snow..."
"I'm scared, Bigby." She said quietly.
A bell above them began to toll loudly. The funeral was going to begin soon and they both had their roles to play. King Cole rounded the corner of the gate and when spotted the two of them he began marching towards them in a determined fashion.
"I'll see you later." Bigby muttered, he squeezed her hand once before standing up and disappearing into the garden.
"Was I interrupting something?" King Cole asked quietly as he approached the slab of concrete she was sitting on.
"No." Snow lied, and smiled up at the Mayor. "Sit down. Keep a girl company."
King Cole sat down next to her, and they sat in silence together for a few minutes, looking out on the remains of Nod's Books and the other Fable shops that had been destroyed the day before.
"What are we going to, Snow?" Cole finally asked, resigned, as though carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Rebuild." She said firmly. "Go on."
The sign above Nod's Books creaked slightly as a breeze brushed by it, but it didn't fall. "These buildings were constructed long ago when things were still built to last. They look bad now, but they're sound. We'll fix them."
"After we bury our dead?"
"Is it time?"
"Yeah, we should go in now." King Cole stood up and offered her his hand, which she gratefully took, and together they went inside.
Author: ittykat
Characters: Snow/Bigby, Prince Charming, Rose Red, Briar Rose, Cinderella, Colin the Pig, Blue, King Cole, many others mentioned.
Wordcount: ~12,000
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Snow tries to go about her normal daily business after she discovers she's pregnant. A collection of missing scenes from just after she discovers she's pregnant to just after the battle of the Wooden Soldiers.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Bill Willingham and Vertigo.The last half of the last scene is taken word-for-word from a panel in the forth TPB.
Notes: Many thanks to zenni and wrinkling for their ongoing feedback and encouragement. This was started in April and only just finished now. It got much longer than I ever intended it to be, but sometimes stories do that. Comments and thoughts are always appreciated. Also this had to be split into two parts since LJ thought it was too long.
Part One
Kill two birds with one stone
"Did they have Jane Fonda?" Rose asked gleefully, as they climbed the stairs to Edmond Dante's fencing studio.
Snow rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I didn't hire it. And before you ask: No, I didn't hire out Carmen Electra either."
"But pole dancing is such a classy way to burn those extra pounds." Rose paused and twitched her head to the side, pondering for a second, and then she added: "Especially when you're pregnant."
"Even if it was, I'm not sure Monsieur Dantes has a pole installed. And there is no way I'm installing one in my apartment." Snow said as they reached the third floor. The plaque on the door in front of them said: The Chateau d'If Fencing Academy.
"He does have a television in the studio right?" Rose asked, as Snow fumbled in her pockets for the key.
"Yes." Snow nodded, finally pulling out the key. "He said he'd set it up for us somewhere we can see." She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, but to her surprise it was already unlocked.
"He must be here a little later than he thought he'd be." Snow said with a shrug, and pushed the door open. Rose followed in behind. The lights were on in the corridor, but Dante's office was dark and the door was closed.
"Maybe he just forgot to lock up." Rose said, hoisting her gym bag back over her shoulder.
They rounded the corner, stepping out into the main studio. The floors were padded and springy underfoot. The television and DVD player were set up on a table in the corner, just as Dante had promised Snow.
But they weren't alone. Charming stood off to the side of the room, long metal rapier in hand, extending and thrusting towards a fencing mannequin. The tip of the sword pierced the shoulder, right where the heart would be, and the metal bent and twisted in an elegant curve, snapping back straight when Charming withdrew and noticed the two women in the studio.
He turned to face them, a quiet look of surprise on his face. His shirt was half buttoned so that it allowed a healthy expanse of well-defined, sweaty chest to be seen. It was quite distracting. But both women knew him well enough to be immune to his powers of charm.
"What're you doing here?" Rose asked curtly.
"Practising." Charming said, holding up his sword pointedly.
Rose glared. Snow eyed the sword. "No." Rose said. "I meant how did you get in here?"
"I have a key. Edmond lets me have free reign here whenever I like, provided I offer a few demonstrations every now and then.
"Right. Well we booked the studio tonight, so can you leave us alone?"
"Like hell. I was here first."
"This isn't a territorial man game we're playing here, Charming. You don't get dibs purely because you're here."
"'Territorial man game'?"
A loud metallic noise echoed through the room, interrupting the rhythm their bickering had gotten into. They both stopped and turned to Snow, who held one of Dante's foils lightly in her hand. Both looked equally confused.
"It's been a long time since I've held a sword." Snow muttered quietly to herself, only partially aware that the other two were silent and looking at her. She flexed her wrist from side to side, testing the weight of it in her palm. It was lighter than she remembered, but then again, this was not the sort of sword that Charming had taught her with, however many centuries ago. That had been a thicker, heavier sword, made for real action, and not for sport like this one.
"Snow, honey, what are you doing?" Rose asked. The look on her face said 'My sister is pregnant and crazy'.
Snow tore her eyes away from the blade and glowered at Rose. "Don't be like that." She held her arm out straight and pointed the blade directly in front of her. In one quick move she thrust it forward. The blade jabbed through the air with a soft schwing.
"Your footwork is wrong." Charming smirked, pointing at her back foot. "You almost overbalanced there."
"It has been about four hundred years since I did this last," Snow said, turning on him defensively. The foil lowered down towards the ground and she flicked her hair back behind her shoulders. "And my sense of balance is more than a little off of late, so you can keep your comments to yourself."
"Snow we have work to do, and if his Highness over here isn't gonna scoot, then we might as well go back to your apartment and make the best of it."
"There isn't enough room there, with the couches and the coffee table."
"We can move them."
"I'm not allowed to lift anything heavy at the moment, and I'm not even sure I could."
"Well then we'll go get a cup of coffee or tea or something at the diner, and come back tomorrow." Rose turned to Charming, hands on her hips. "We call dibs on the studio tomorrow. It's nice to be reminded you're still a selfish asshole."
Charming gave the red-head a sarcastic bow of the head. "I aim to please." He said
"Come on sis. Let's go get that coffee." Rose said.
"Charming?" Snow asked, bending the tip of the sword with her free hand. "Do you remember that promise you made me on--" She paused, and glanced awkwardly at her sister. "-- Just after we got married? I asked for you to teach me how to fence."
"Yes." He said hesitantly. The frown on his face was a bitter one, filled with sour memories and century-old mistakes.
"You promised one day we'd continue those lessons."
Rose sputtered a little in shock. "What?" She said incredulously. "Snow you're being stupid. You're pregnant and you want to play with big giant knives? That isn't what Dr Swineheart meant when he told you to exercise."
Snow pursed her lips and ignored her sister, focusing instead on her ex-husband.
"I was under the impression that promise was made null and void by our divorce." He said emphatically, though he looked a little disorientated, as though he hadn't at all expected the proposition.
"A promise is a promise. And since you were the party at fault when we divorced--" Snow glared a little when his glance shifted to Rose. "--Then I feel that I should still be able to collect on it."
"No." Rose said forcefully, stepping in between the two. "You're pregnant and making crazy decisions. I'm putting my foot down."
"Rose, this isn't your decision, it's mine. And as enthusiastic as you might be about Jane Fonda, I don't relish the thought of getting my exercise in time to a tape."
Charming laughed. "You were going to work out with Jane? No wonder you'd rather fence."
"So will you teach me again?"
"No." He said airily, shrugging apathetically. "I simply don't have the time."
Snow would not be deterred so easily. "You corrected my footwork just before. You're already doing it in your 'spare time'." She paused and raised the foil up to her line of sight, carefully examining it. She continued on in a light, flippant manner. "Consider it a way to convince me to forget about the Bluebeard incident."
The airy carelessness he'd been affecting was dropped, and he adopted a quiet, calculating look, as though he were weighing the pros and cons in his head. "So if I give you lessons, you'll drop the Bluebeard threats?" He finally asked.
"Yes." Snow said with smile, knowing that she'd won. It hadn't even taken much of a fight. He must've been really bored.
"Alright." Charming said with a nod. Rose let out a huff of frustration.
"You're both idiots." Rose said, throwing her hands up in the air. "I wash my hands of both of you. I'll be at Branstock."
She left, slamming the door. Snow sighed, wondering when Rose would ever lose that particular dramatic flair. It only ever succeeded in impressing guys like Jack and Bluebeard. That bad-sort of guy that got Rose into so much trouble. She returned her attention to Charming who was looking at her with a fond smile on his lips. Snow wasn't sure she liked it.
"Shall we begin?" He asked, stepping up onto the strip of padded floor that ran across the room. He raised his foil out towards her own, eyebrows raised.
"Alright."
"Good. Then we'll make the ground rules. Number one. You don't tell Bigby about these lessons."
"Oh don't tell me you're scared of him."
"I'm not scared, but I have a healthy respect for anyone who'd rip my head off if given the chance, and if he came to be aware of this particular arrangement, I imagine that would be chance enough for him."
"I won't tell him. But I don't imagine we'll be able to keep this secret from him."
Charming frowned. It was an ugly frown. "His nose knows everything. Of course. Filthy beast. Well then do your best to keep him off my back, and that will be fine."
"I'll try." Snow conceded. "But despite all appearances of my seniority, he tends to do what he wants, and not what I tell him to."
He looked at her skeptically, as though he didn't quite believe her, but did not follow it up with a witty remark, as he was usually wont to do. "The other rule is that you do exactly as I say. You follow my instructions to the letter. If I say that we are finished for the day, you are to go home and not argue. Can you do that?"
"I can." She tilted her neck to the side both ways, breathing deeply when she heard the satisfying crack. She uncrossed her arms and raised the foil towards Charming. She wanted to start.
"Alright." He said, taking a step back, his feet naturally assuming the correct stance. He raised his rapier towards her, holding it rather loosely in his hand. Snow could tell by his posture he didn't expect much of a challenge from her, and to be truthful she didn't think she'd ever deliver one, but she'd do her best.
"Show me what you remember." He instructed, and so with one deep breath she did.
A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.
"I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" She asked the dismembered pig's head, impaled on a spike in her kitchen.
The pig snorted happily. "I would've thought that was obvious by now, sweetheart."
"It's getting a little harder for me to tell whether these dreams are real or just dreams these days." She sighed, shuffling through the kitchen to put on the kettle. If she was dreaming, she was damn well going to have herself a coffee. Seven months of cravings were hard to push aside.
"I'd blame the hormones. They'll give anyone weird dreams." Colin said, twisting on his spike a little to face her. He squelched unpleasantly. "I also hear it does wonders for the sex-drive."
"Yeah? Sex with who?" Snow asked hypothetically, not really wanting him to answer. It was likely he'd just assume the same thing that the rest of the community was assuming. Only this morning Bigby had thumped Jack for making a lewd gesture in their direction, and she supposed that in hindsight that probably hadn't been the best way to deter the rumour.
"Do you want something to drink while you're here? Or are you just around to deliver a cryptic message then leave me to wake up."
"Can't a guy just haunt your dreams for some good conversation?"
"Not when you're impaled upon a pole."
"True..." He tilted his head to the side and gave her a wry smile. "I'd love a cold beer."
Snow raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm seven months pregnant, Colin, and you think I have beer in my house?"
"It can never hurt to ask." He said. Snow was sure that had he still had shoulders he would have shrugged. "A coffee would be fine. Black as death and sweet as sin."
"Okay. And I have a straw around here somewhere... You can drink it out of that." Snow said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a plastic novelty straw. It was twisted into the shape of a musical treble clef.
"Thanks. You're always were a doll, Snowdrop."
"Why do you haunt my dreams anyway, Colin?"
"You need my help. You might hide it around everyone else, but I can see how scared you are, how lost you feel... So I took pity on you and decided to give you guidance."
"And guidance is cryptic messages about the horrors that are to come?"
"Hey, forewarned is forearmed."
"But I never remember these dreams when I wake up... And I always wake up feeling like I got about two minutes sleep."
"Whether you remember it consciously or not doesn't matter. You'll remember it unconsciously, and that's gonna help."
The kettle began to boil with a shrill whistle, interrupting their conversation. Snow removed it from its cradle and poured the hot water into two glasses. It swirled with the instant coffee powder and the sugar, and she got a spoon and swirled it around the glasses to mix it around.
"Okay. So what's your message today. 'A storm is coming'? 'Your child will be spawn of the devil'?"
"Children. Plural. More than one. But no, nothing to do with the devil. They'll be as normal as you can expect them to be with parents of different species."
Snow plopped the straw into Colin's coffee cup and held it up to his mouth so that he could suck away. "It's hot, sip slowly."
"I'm dead. Even if it does burn my tongue, what do I care?" He sucked at the coffee happily. Dark black liquid made its way through his head, eventually falling out the back of his skull, mixing with the blood and gore of his wound and dripping down the pole and onto the tiles of her kitchen floor. At least it wasn't her carpet this time.
"Ah, that hit the spot." He said, lips smacking happily. "Thanks, Snow."
"You're welcome." She put his mug down on the counter and began to drink her own. The bitter liquid was light and hot on her tongue, but every drop was savoured. Her addiction to this drink had come as a shock when she'd been deprived it.
"Listen. Snow... Bad things are coming. I told you that last time... And people are going to die. But Fabletown has never had a more capable leader than you."
"I don't like it when you talk like this."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for. They wouldn't let me come unless you needed to hear it."
"Then tell me specifics. Dates. Events. What's coming? What's so bad?
"An army will come, led by an old enemy dressed up an old friend. And he'll won't be there to help you when you need it. But you won't be alone. Remember that. You're never alone."
Snow groaned and rolled over in her bed. The baby had been sleeping on her bladder again, giving her strange dreams. She pushed aside the covers and pattered across the hallway to the bathroom to the toilet, the lingering taste of dream coffee on her tongue.
Clothes don't make the man.
"I have a question." She said, as she wiped her forehead with a towel. She felt like she was dripping with sweat, and she could feel a line of it leaking down her spine. Charming passed her the water bottle and she gratefully took a sip.
"Of course." He wasn't in the least bit tired or sweaty, still looking as completely composed as he had when he'd first walked in. She felt dreadfully unfit in comparison, but that was the point of all this.
"Who told you I was pregnant?"
He smiled and shook his head, as though remembering a fond memory. "Mrs. Webb took great pleasure in telling me the news. She seemed to think I'd be jealous and wanted to see my reaction."
"I'm not stupid, Charming." She said. "You definitely knew before Mrs. Webb did. She didn't find out until Mrs. Spratt peeked in my medical file and spilled the beans while she was at the hairdressers, and that was at least a month after you knew."
Charming shrugged in a very non-committal manner that frustrated Snow to no end. He was so hard to read when he was like this. She forged on ahead instead. Perhaps if she just badgered him incessantly she'd eventually get an answer she'd be satisfied with.
"There's no need to protect your sources now, it's not like I can hide it anymore." She said. Her stomach protruded out through her tight sports top, and she instinctively rubbed a hand across it. "It's in the past. I'm just curious... Rose swears she didn't tell you, and she was the weakest link."
"Rose and I aren't gossip buddies, and I don't know if you've noticed but she's been about as keen on me for the past few centuries as you have been."
Snow didn't believe him. If it wasn't Rose, then it was almost certainly someone else. The options were severely narrowed down. Dr Swineheart was far too honourable to even consider breaking the Doctor-Patient confidentiality agreement. Bigby would've bitten Charming's head off before telling him Snow was pregnant. But King Cole occasionally let one or two things slip when the right compliment was thrown his way and Blue could be talkative when he had a few drinks in him. She put a hand on her hip and eyed Charming sceptically. He had the answer, and she would get it out of him one way or another.
"Then who was it? King Cole? Blue? Bigby wouldn't tell you a thing about me unless he had my express written permission."
Charming chuckled a little. "You've trained the dog well I see."
"He isn't a dog." She said, irritated. It took a great deal of willpower not to level a glare at him, the only reason she didn't was because she felt he'd read too much into it. Charming had always been good at reading body language.
She caught him in a stare, eyes locked, and it turned into a sort of silent game of Uncle. Snow wouldn't stop until her curiosity was sated, and Charming seemed reluctant to let on the answer, but Snow was fuelled by hormones and she'd always had a steadfast dedication to any task that Charming had no hope of rivalling, even if he tried, so it was no real surprise that he caved first. "I could tell." He said with a shrug, turning back to the rack where they'd stacked their foils. "No one told me."
"What do you mean, no one told you?" That was even less likely than him getting the goss out of Rose.
"I figured it out for myself. Whenever you and Bigby were in the room together you could cut the tension with a knife... Then there was the way you were carrying yourself. You gained weight..." He suddenly looked a bit scared. He hurried on to clarify, as though he knew the punishment for angering her while she was pumped full of hormones was more terrifying than he could truly imagine. "And I'm not calling you fat... You looked so worried all the time. But I didn't really know for sure until I caught you when you were about to fall, that day."
Snow turned up her nose, as though she didn't like the answer. "You were never that good at reading me, Charming."
"I've had more time to practice than the last time I tried." The Prince shrugged then raised his foil once again. "Now have you had enough of a break or can we get back to work?"
Forewarned is forearmed.
It was eerily quiet. The war was coming: the proverbial storm on the horizon. Baba Yaga and the Wooden Soldiers had issued their ultimatum and the fallout had left her with little time to process. Instead, her mind was filled with battle plans, attack points, strengths, weaknesses, strategies, street maps, building plans... She was alone. Everyone else had been given their orders. She barely looked up when the office door opened. It squeaked a little and echoed through the cavernous room.
"How are Trusty John and Blue?" Snow glancing up only briefly to see it was Charming, bearing news of the two of their kin who're already injured. Blue-- her right hand man was gone.
"They'll be fine. Swineheart is with them both." Charming said, standing in the door-way.
"Good." Snow nodded. She'd changed into practical overalls and a warm jacket loaded with many pockets. A two-way radio was pinned to the pocket over her breast. There was another, identical radio sitting on her desk, on top of street maps and building plans.
"Is Bigby coming?" He asked, slowly covering the distance between the door and her desk.
"He should be. He's been out of contact since last night." Snow looked up from the plans and handed the spare radio to Charming.
"I need you to lead them out there. On the front line--"
"I was going to whether you asked me to or not."
"-- and I need to know you'll follow my orders."
"A good general knows when it's best to follow orders."
Snow nodded. It was what she needed to hear. "Good. I trust you. You'll need to supervise the blockade of Bullfinch and Kipling streets at both entrances, show this to the Mundys if they ask questions..." She handed him a false permit, one they always had handy for situations exactly like this.
"Leave it to me." He said, and with radio in one hand and permit in the other, he left the office with a nod.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery...
They both were wearing black. It was tradition, after all. The war was over, and now it was time to bury their dead.
Snow's hand felt small in his. He could wrap his fist around it and completely envelop it, but she didn't feel overwhelmed. He'd been there for her, for them. He'd pulled through right when they'd needed him. They were safe now.
"You look really nice in that suit." She said, looking at his hand and then the sleeve of his jacket, and finally him.
He slouched a little, the deep frown across his brow deepened and a faint red blush crossed his cheeks. "I don't like wearing this suit. I don't like what it means."
Snow sighed. She looked back down at their hands, and at her belly, straining through the fabric of her skirt. It wouldn't be much longer. She could feel it. A week at the most. Time had gone so fast, everything was happening so fast. "No. I know." She said. "But it looks good. You clean up well, when you have to."
He grunted a little, and his lips twisted at the sides. It was his strange version of a smile. She smiled too.
"You know," She said. "If you took the time to iron your shirt every day before you came to work, you'd look smart every day."
"Would you like that?" His brown eyes were staring at her so intensely, it felt almost invasive. She felt as though all her fears, all the cracks in her facade were breaking down under the pressure of his stare. She wished she could think of something to break the ice, to relieve the pressure, but she'd never been one very good at cracking jokes in times of stress, that was Rose's job.
"I don't know." She sighed.
"Snow..."
"I'm scared, Bigby." She said quietly.
A bell above them began to toll loudly. The funeral was going to begin soon and they both had their roles to play. King Cole rounded the corner of the gate and when spotted the two of them he began marching towards them in a determined fashion.
"I'll see you later." Bigby muttered, he squeezed her hand once before standing up and disappearing into the garden.
"Was I interrupting something?" King Cole asked quietly as he approached the slab of concrete she was sitting on.
"No." Snow lied, and smiled up at the Mayor. "Sit down. Keep a girl company."
King Cole sat down next to her, and they sat in silence together for a few minutes, looking out on the remains of Nod's Books and the other Fable shops that had been destroyed the day before.
"What are we going to, Snow?" Cole finally asked, resigned, as though carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Rebuild." She said firmly. "Go on."
The sign above Nod's Books creaked slightly as a breeze brushed by it, but it didn't fall. "These buildings were constructed long ago when things were still built to last. They look bad now, but they're sound. We'll fix them."
"After we bury our dead?"
"Is it time?"
"Yeah, we should go in now." King Cole stood up and offered her his hand, which she gratefully took, and together they went inside.